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Endless

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Although I know that I made it to bed ahead of 11:30 p.m. last night, the actual time escapes me. And for that matter, I will quote 8:18 a.m. as when I rose this morning, but I am unsure of that.

Whatever the case, the second half of my night was not especially restful ─ much broken sleep.

I had thought that my wife Jack might show up from Vancouver last evening, but she did not. My diet is suffering for want of her shopping and cooking. Until my pension arrives at some point later this month, I am hamstrung ─ I can but bide my time here at home and try to make do.

My thinking now is that Jack will likely show up today.

We may have had some frost overnight, but the day has been overcast, with some glimmerings of sunshine now as the mid-afternoon approaches (I am typing these words at 2:37 p.m.).

Poté and his girlfriend have gone nowhere thus far ─ I do hope that either of them has to work today. It is still possible that one or the other may have to put in a shift. She has two part-time restaurant jobs, and he has two part-time retail jobs over in Guildford.

I spent the morning setting up a new post at my Lawless Spirit website, and will be adding to it over the next five or so days. That foundational work actually took me until nearly midway through the noon-hour.

I went out to the backyard shed to attempt some exercise, but my upper body felt too overtaxed to be stressed with anything requiring me to bear my weight with my hands, arms, and shoulders. A day's break seemed in order.

I have some further photos to post from last Fall when my wife Jack charged the fare for a trip back to Thailand to see her mother after more than 3½ years. The family home is in Nong Soong, a large village that is maybe a 15-minute drive from Udon Thani.

I wish that I could identify the name and location of this beautiful temple, but I am unable to ─ the photos were probably taken on November 3:

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Very recently, I twice posted about a study that has determined that including red meat in one's diet has no negative influence where concerns the risk of cardiovascular disease ─ these reports speak of it:

We have some aluminum pots that get used here in our house, as does aluminum foil when baking something on a cookie sheet.

If I had to fend for myself, then I would shun aluminum pots and pans. However, I am not the chief cook. And I cannot afford to be replacing everything ─ not on my weak pension.

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My wife Jack has arrived home now ─ she must have shown up as early as 4:00 p.m. There is much fuss going on in the boys' den area, and the laundry/furnace room next to it ─ it is all clean-up with a view to making our resident rat less happy about making itself at home.

Thus, I must close now with this journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the small space in a house located on Ninth Street, and a house or two up from Third Avenue.

SATURDAY, January 24, 1976

I got up feeling pretty stiff near 6:30 a.m.

I typed up Jean a short letter.

Boy, did I have a lunch today! Over 1 1/3 pounds ground beef, over 1 lb of cheese, at least 1/3 of one of mom's loaves of bread, and the small onion with sundry condiments.

Delicious, if caloric.

After I'd gotten myself turned out for a nap, Bill came round toward 2:30 p.m. sometime, trying to talk me into going after a roast apiece with him; but I didn't feel like it. I was using delaying tactics, when I heard his mother call for him to hurry up. I guess he kept her waiting in the car nigh 10 minutes, but he should have said something to me.

Later I'm to come over for TV at his place.

Anyway, after my nap I didn't climb out of bed till past 5:00 p.m., likely having had an NE during the sleep.

I never did my allotted exercises today, tomorrow's chancy draw being so near at hand, and my belly so pleasantly full.

I mailed Jean's letter on my way to Bill's; he fed me 2 slices of his roast beef.

I phoned mom to see if an Olympic Lottery ticket owed me happened yet to arrive; it apparently came yesterday, so she gave me the number and now I'm fully armed with 5 tickets; the odds, she said, on 1 are 1 out of 7 of getting something.

Bed at 11:20 p.m.

The letter was to Jean M. Martin (née Black), an American pen-pal.

My old friend William Alan Gill rented a bachelor suite about four or so blocks away from my room. He had his mother Anne Gregory around frequently to clean up for him, and cook ─ she rented a place over in Maillardville.

Bill owned a rather large colour T.V., so it was a treat to occasionally watch some shows over there instead of on my smaller black & white model.

I was sure excited about that Olympic Lottery draw scheduled for the next day ─ I had myself believing that God was going to change my life with it.

Well, here I am 41 years later, still waiting for a life-changing lottery or sweepstakes win.